“O.K., Daw.Ddy,” was all my sobbing two year old daughter could muster between sniffles and tears. She was a sad little wreck, hunched over, somehow sobbing while simultaneously inhaling in a fitful pattern. It was morning, I had woken her from her princess dreams, her face was scrunched in grumpiness. She firmly rubbed her eyes with her tiny fists as if doing so would transport her back to peaceful dreams.
I was trying to convince her to walk from her bedroom to the bathroom to go potty. To her, that walk sounded like a long, impossible journey she could not undertake.
I didn’t know how she’d respond and held my breath in nervous uncertainty. Asking her to go potty in those circumstances lies somewhere between a command and an opening salvo to protracted negotiations—all I could do is keep my fingers crossed. She absolutely didn’t want to go potty. However, even though there wasn’t much thinking yet taking place in her sleepy mind, somehow when she looked in my eyes a light bulb switched on. Despite what she felt, she responded in what I can only describe as faith in me—“OK, Daddy.”
The moment was anything but a triumph in good parenting. My wife had to work early, so she was already gone. I had to get the kids to the babysitter’s house, and of course I was a kiddy (or daddy) meltdown away from being late for work. And anyone who has young kids knows that children have a sixth sense for when you’re running late and Murphy’s Law will make sure you’re even later.
But this morning, I had won! I smiled proudly, “That’s right, Daddy knows what’s best for you. “ I knew best. Daddy knew what she needed, Daddy loved her, and Daddy was taking care of her. She was right to trust me and do what I asked of her.
As she did “her business,” my mind raced towards what was next. I had caught a break, but it was only a minor one, and I knew that the deck was already stacked against me. I still had to get her dressed, my son dressed, me dressed, get them in the car, drive them to the babysitters, and unload them. Then go to work, where I’d be late. I didn’t want to go to work— running late was the least of my concerns, I expected it to be a horrible day. Fires to put out, pushy clients to deal with, fighting the world, ready to surrender to the world again. After only a few seconds of this defeatist line of thinking, my daughter was not the only one with a scowl on her face.
My frown went much deeper than just the day’s packed schedule. I didn’t want to go to work because I was overwhelmed, and I was in a spiritual stage of blaming God for a life that just didn’t work right for me. Our minds work that way sometimes—somehow we are convinced that because work isn’t going right, God isn’t doing his job right. Our logic is as ridiculous as a child throwing a tantrum.
Needless to say, our Heavenly Father urges us to listen to our own parenting advice. Rather than letting my negative thoughts run out of control, there needed to be the faith of the mustard seed, “OK, Daddy.” Our Heavenly Father knows what’s best. He knows what we need, he loves us, and he is taking care of us.
“Ridiculous” is a word my wife frequently uses when describing our kids’ tantrums. Our daughter’s complaints about going potty are ridiculous. If she doesn’t go, she’ll pee her pants. If she goes on the potty, her little world is obviously so much better.
When we distrust God, when we say the all-powerful Creator and loving Savior doesn’t know what he’s doing, we surely are as ridiculous as a kid who doesn’t want to go potty. Fortunately, our Heavenly Father is a patient parent.
The intimate word “Abba,” meaning “Daddy,” is used a several times in Scripture when describing God. Interestingly, Jesus used it when praying in Gethsemane, “Daddy, Father, everything is possible for you. Take this cup from me. Yet not what I will, but what you will” (Mark 14:36). Calvary awaited Jesus the next day, and he knew it. Jesus’ prayer is a more spiritual version of my thoughts this morning. He knew a bad day was coming and asked for deliverance. There was nothing wrong with earnestly praying for deliverance, the Heavenly Father cared deeply about Jesus’ pending suffering. However, God’s plan that day was not “ideal” for Jesus. God would not deliver Jesus from suffering that day, Christ nevertheless persevered, and mankind was eternally redeemed as a result.
Sometimes God delivers in spectacular fashion, but most of the time we just have to say in faith, “OK, Daddy,” and act in faith. Most of the time, we just have to sit on the proverbial potty. The Heavenly Father is listening, and he cares. Cry out to him, earnestly pray, and submit to his will. As we act in faith, the Heavenly Father will use us to redeem the world.